The Riddle
by CCTheVampireLover
Summary: Sherlock Holmes has a riddle to solve and it all starts with her. Two enigma's will join forces to solve the greatest riddle of them all.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Cassidy Scott sat and watched as the cab weaved its way in and out of traffic. Her stomach was in knots. She had left London eight years ago without looking back and she had been certain back then that she would never return to her homeland. Up until a week ago she stood firmly with that believe but things had spiraled as they usually did and she had been forced to board a plane back home.

Not that she really had a home. She had an older, obnoxious and selfish sister but that wasn't home. No parents, no house with memories of her childhood or specially baked treats waiting for her. Growing up in London she had always seen it as a magical place, old Victorian buildings,and the smell of rain hitting on the tarmac, the shades of different grey hues and the luscious greens of the country side. But now sitting in a cab she viewed her former grounds with distaste. It's true what the world thought about London; it was gloomy and dull.

Looking back she preferred New York, her home for the last eight years. Cassidy pulled out her mobile and sighed, her clock was still set for New York. She quickly changed the settings before glancing at her gallery. She only had two photos on her phone, one of Sam and his family and the other of the threat she had been sent. A doll with a severed head, with the words "We're coming" etched in what she assumed was blood on the doll's dress.

Cassidy grumbled and tucked the phone back into her jean pocket. Being a criminal profiler and working for the CIA had its risks. It hadn't been her first threat. She worked under detective Sam Edwards for four years, and in that time the two of them had cleaned up the streets effectively enough that people began to take notice of them. Especially the criminal masterminds. But this threat had been different. Sam was like her father, he'd been the one to hire her straight out of school, invited her into his home with his wife Sandra and their two kids.

A serial killer by the name of The Splitter, had threatened the CIA when they started chasing down leads to his organization. With the help of Sam and Cassidy the CIA were able to learn that The Splitter was none other than, Antonio Diaz a Spanish mobster with connections to underground links, who was posing as the splitter. However there was no sufficient evidence to support that Antonio was The Splitter as he claimed to have an organization behind him that supplied assassins to him. Antonio got bail and vanished months before his trial. In that time frame they had discovered that Antonio's wife was behind a number of murders as well, but the minute Sam and Cassidy dug the threats came. Dismembered fingers were sent to their office, and an expose was threated to be leaked of the CIA to a news agency on all their agents and then came the threat on Sam's family.

They had gone for his children, stalking his children until eventually kidnapping them got their message across to them. Their orders were clear and precise. Sam's children were returned back to him unharmed with the condition they leave the C.I.A for good. Cassidy had been reluctant to leave but Sam had convinced her to leave.

"Cass you got to do this. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you. They got to Justin and Francine. They were followed by agents Cass when those threats came in. They won't stop until we both stop. Go home, Cass go back to London. You'll be safer there. You can figure out the case that you and I both know you want to figure out. It's not possible here Cass, it's safer for us to leave." Sam had said as he gripped her shoulders trying to shake sense into her.

Sam had booked her a ticket and the next day she resigned from the CIA and left for London. Cassidy didn't like being threated but she knew that as long as Antonio was out there, she wouldn't be able to return to New York. Sam and she had gathered that there was something bigger going on, bigger than the Splitter. An organization of sorts that was helping criminals with their issues. But what could she do now? She was on the other side of the world and being forced to play by her sisters rules.

Jane wasn't pleased that Cassidy would be arriving to London, but she had offered to put a roof over Cassidy's head and provide her with a job at their parent's bookstore.

Cassidy sighed as the cab came to a stop. She blinked her eyes and frowned. The trip from the airport to Barnes, where her sister lived had flashed so quickly that Cassidy hadn't even had time to prepare for what she was going to say or do when she saw her sister. Cassidy paid the cab driver and collected her bags and frowned. Leave it to her sister to have the big and expensive house. She walked up towards the front door and knocked but as she knocked the door swung wide open.

Cassidy went immediately into alert. Why would her sister leave the door open? Cassidy frowned and glanced behind her. She noticed two cars down along the street, a sleek black Mercedes was parked. Cassidy dropped her bags and made her way towards the Mercedes. No one was in the car but she pulled on the handle of the passenger side door and it swung open. Someone was in a hurry and had left their very expensive vehicle unlocked.

Cassidy strode into her sister's house and called out for her sister. But there was no answer. Cassidy frowned and wished Sam was with her. At least he carried a gun. Adrenalin coursing through her veins Cassidy heard the sounds of footsteps upstairs. Without thinking she climbed the stairs and made her way down the passage. She could only hear a muffled female's voice and a loud clunking noise. Her sister was in danger. Cassidy looked around her for anything to use as a weapon. She moved back down along the passage and opened another door, it was her nephew's room. Cassidy grabbed a hockey stick that lay on the floor and made her way back to the door where she could hear muffled noises.

"Okay you can do this, Cass." She thought to herself as she swung the door open, hockey stick raised to fend off any attackers.

But the minute Cass stepped through the door, she wished there had been attackers. Jane was sprawled on the bed, tied up and mouth bound, with an equally sweaty man on top of her. She wasn't in danger, she was clearly enjoying it. The man on top stopped his ministrations and turned around towards Cassidy. The man definitely wasn't Jane's husband, Richard. Cassidy watched as her sister recognized her and immediately Cassidy could see in her sisters jade eyes that she was annoyed. Jane gestured towards her lover to remove the bound before shoving him off and reaching for her robe.

"What the fuck Cassidy! Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Jane shouted.

Cassidy dropped the hockey stick and crossed her arms in defense. She hadn't planned on her encounter with her older sister being this awkward.

"Your door was unlocked. I thought you were in trouble." Cass frowned as Jane's lover walked stark naked passed her towards the ensuite. "But clearly you're not. How's Richard doing?" Cassidy spat out sarcastically.

Jane huffed and pushed her blonde hair to one side.

"Don't start. I don't ask questions about your nonexistent sex life." Jane growled out.

Cassidy and Jane just stared at each other. Neither one wanting to say hello. Cassidy analyzed her sister in front of her. Jane definitely had a boob job since she last saw her, her body was thin and lean no doubt from all the spinning classes she attended and her face didn't have a wrinkle on it. Botox no doubt. Cassidy was aware that her sister was probably also searching her up and down.

Unlike Jane, Cassidy had a much fuller figure, big hips and she had been cursed with a very good pair of assets as opposed to Jane. Cassidy wasn't tall like Jane, she was short and detested wearing high heels. She had dark brown auburn hair that fell to her shoulders in loose curls, while Jane had a sleek blonde bob that was sleek and straight. Where Jane had a natural tanned skin, Cassidy was pale and with her dark hair, she looked even paler than she really was.

Jane sighed out suddenly and glanced at her wrist watch. Cassidy watched as her sisters eyes widened in shock.

"Oh my god I forgot about Arthur." Jane shrieked as she began pacing.

Arthur was Jane and Richards's only child. Cassidy's nephew. He was six years old and according to Richards emails he sent to Cassidy on occasion, he was a typical boisterous six year old.

"You have to go and fetch him." Jane rounded on Cassidy her face flustered.

"What?!" Cassidy asked confused.

"He's at school and he needs to go to the doctor. I forgot completely about it."

Cassidy smirked.

"Yeah your brains were getting banged. It's kinda easy to see how you could forget to pick up your son and take him to the doctor." Cassidy said sarcastically.

"Go fetch him. My car has gps. I'm sure London hasn't changed that much since you left." Jane said oblivious to Cassidy's sarcasm.

"Why do I have to go?" Cassidy growled out.

"Because idiot I have to get Tim out the house before Richard gets back. I was supposed to take Arthur yesterday and he was mad because I went to the spa instead." Jane sighed, and reached into her jacket pocket that lay on the floor along with her other clothes. She pulled out a set of car keys.

"Take the Jag and fetch him." Jane huffed before turning on her heel and heading off towards the ensuite.

Cassidy sighed. She was really going to have to find a place of her own.

Sherlock was bored. He was always bored but this time it was getting worse. John and Mary had welcomed their daughter six months ago. Amelia Sheryl Watson. He had been happy for his friend but it meant that John was no longer available to him when he needed him. Babies always changed everything he thought, tempted to take the gun out the desk draw and start firing away at the bloody smiley face on his wall.

It was absurd. Not a case over a seven for nearly two weeks. What the hell was he supposed to do till then? Sit and play with Amelia and try discover if baby babbling was indeed another language entirely.

"I need a smoke." He thought to himself as he stretched out from the couch. He just needed to know where to find his hidden stash of cigarettes was. Just one was all he needed he told himself. He stood up and swept around the lounge area, his blue robes billowing behind him.

At that moment, Mrs. Hudson appeared brandishing his usual cup of tea in the morning. She looked shocked to see him awake.

"You're up early this morning?" She tutted as she took in the state of the lounge.

Sherlock mumbled and continued his search.

"No cases I suspect?" Mrs. Hudson sighed as she tried to clean some of the mess he left on her kitchen counter.

"Very good deduction skills, Mrs. Hudson perhaps you are intelligent." He replied sarcastically lifting one of the sofa chairs up.

Mrs. Hudson ignored the quip.

"Perhaps you should get a roommate, Sherlock. Someone nice who can go with you on your cases. Now that John and Mary are looking after a baby."

Sherlock dropped the chair, loudly onto the wooden floor. A sudden thought popping into his head. Perhaps the old bag was right. Maybe he needed another John, not that there would ever be a replacement for John but an apprentice of sorts to act as a stand in if John was unavailable to offer him assistance on a case.

It was a marvelous idea. He made his way over to Mrs. Hudson and swooped his arms around her in a hug.

"Bless the dull minds of the earth, they make mine run so much smoother." He smiled forgetting all about his cigarettes.

He placed Mrs. Hudson back on the floor, beaming from ear to ear. Mrs. Hudson was suddenly fearful of him. That look meant he was up to something.

"Call John, Mrs. Hudson. Tell him I want a new roommate before the day has set." Sherlock said walking towards the window.

"Okay dear, but I'm not your housekeeper." She smiled before leaving.

'Oh yes, an east wing was coming. He could feel it.'

"He wants what?" Mary asked alarmed as she cradled Amelia in her arms.

"You heard me, he wants a bloody roommate and by today no less." John sighed pinching his nose.

Mary placed Amelia into her pram. Luckily for her she didn't have to give up work or motherhood. John being the main GP helped, she was able to bring Amelia with to the reception room where she could keep an eye out on her. Mary had wondered when Sherlock was going to realize that with a baby it left to very tired adults who weren't too keen to go off gallivanting in the night.

"Maybe it's not a bad idea, John." Mary sighed. "He needs the company."

John shook his head and pushed his half eaten sandwich away from his desk.

"This is bloody, Sherlock Holmes were talking about Mary. Who the hell is going to be able to put up with him?"

"A special person. Just like you. Now don't worry, I'll figure it out. It's the least I could do for Sherlock after …" Mary trailed off.

She didn't like talking about the creep Magnusson and she didn't like talking about the fact that she had almost killed Sherlock.

John understood and nodded. He stood up from his chair and placed a kiss on Mary's cheek and a small peck on Amelia's little tuff of blonde hair.

"My two girls, where would I be without you two?" He smiled.

Mary didn't know how she was going to find someone to stay with Sherlock, but as she walked out into the reception room she saw somebody from her past walk in.

Cassidy Scott.

 **An: Okay so this is my first Sherlock Fanfic , so go easy on me hehe. Chapter two will be put up within the next two weeks and from then on I will update weekly with a chapter.**

 **CC**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

Cassidy was able to find Arthurs school without any problems. London had changed but things still felt the same and moved the same. Cassidy had last seen Arthur six months ago when he and Richard had visited her in New York. Cassidy didn't know Richard extremely well but he kept her up to date when it came to her nephew. All Cassidy knew was that Richard was a different breed of person unlike her insensitive and snobbish sister. Richard was humble despite the fact that he was London's most prestigious software developer of the new age. But Cassidy knew that Jane perhaps wasn't with Richard because of his humble mannerisms or the fact that he was well liked and from what Cassidy could tell a genuinely good father. No Jane wanted one thing only and that was the title and money that came along with him.

Arthur had been so excited when she had collected him from school. He proudly told his fellow classmates that she was like a cop and caught baddies for a living. Richard had mentioned in his last email that the boy was showing a fondness for spy stories. Cassidy had battled to get away from the rumbustious group of six year olds. Arthur had chatted up a storm while in the car and he insisted that he wasn't sick despite the angry red cheeks he sported and the damp blonde curls that stuck plastered to his forehead due to an obvious fever.

What Cassidy hadn't expected when she walked through the reception of the doctor's office was to see an agent that she had worked with.

Mary snapped out of her initial shock and made her way towards, Cassidy. There was no one in the reception room but them.

"Cass is that you?" Mary asked pulling Cassidy into a hug.

"Hey um …" Cassidy faltered.

She wasn't sure what alias agent Dunkirk was under at the moment. They had worked together for months trying to ensnare a serial killer into a web of their own making and in all that time together Cassidy had never found out what her real name was. Cassidy didn't want to blow her cover if she had one.

"It's Mary. Mary Watson." Mary answered when Cassidy faltered. She was quite aware what was going on in the younger woman's brain.

"It's good to see you Mary." Cassidy smiled.

"You left New York? I'm surprised." Mary asked eyebrows raised.

"Complications. I arrived two hours ago. This is my nephew, Arthur." Cassidy stated.

She didn't feel like elaborating on her circumstances that lead her being back in London.

Mary glanced and smiled recognizing Arthur or Archie as she liked to call him. He always came in with his dad and never his mother.

"Hey Arch, Doctor Watson will see you now. Let me take you in quickly."

Mary led Arthur into a separate room and returned a few minutes later. In that time Cassidy had noticed the baby stroller behind the desk. A sleeping baby girl with blonde curls and pink cheeks laid peacefully asleep.

"Tonsils again. John is just doing a routine checkup. He should be out now." Mary spoke suddenly aware that Cassidy looked deep in thought.

Cassidy glanced up at Mary and smiled.

"You've settled down." She said gesturing to the baby in the stroller and the ring on her wedding finger.

"I have. So I thought you said you would never return to London?" Mary smiled.

"I had to unfortunately. I have to live with my sister. Not the best news I'm afraid." Cassidy smiled halfheartedly.

Cassidy watched as Mary tilted her head sideways as if she was deep in thought. When Cassidy had last seen her she had jet black shoulder length hair and a rifle. Sam who had mentored her in every aspect of the CIA had told her that there was department or another side that was much hidden and very restricted. Cassidy wasn't stupid. She was aware that governments had assassins and that there were grey areas. Cassidy had expected not to get on with Agent Dunkirk when they initially met , but no one was more surprised than Cassidy when she realized how relatively normal she was.

A lot had changed and it clearly showed. The person that stood before her looked nothing like the woman she had worked closely with. Her hair was blonde and warm, her body fuller and the warmth of motherhood was clinging to her like a second skin.

"You know my husband's friend is looking for a flat mate. If you're interested that is? I remember you saying how much you disliked your sister." Mary said suddenly the idea popping into her head with abandon.

Before Cassidy could remark,Arthur stepped out of the doctor's room followed by a fair headed man.

"Where is Mr. James or Mrs. James?" John asked confused looking at the young woman who was talking to his wife

"This is Mrs. James sister, Cassidy. She a friend from my past. Cassidy this is my husband, John Watson."

John immediately looked at Mary but saw that she wasn't under duress. Perhaps this woman wasn't part of the past Mary was referring to.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." He stuck out his hand and shook hers.

"Likewise." Cassidy smiled. She could see a thousand questions gathering in his eyes. No doubt trying to make the connection as to where she fitted in with Mary's past.

"Cassidy is a criminal profiler. We met and worked in similar departments. I did all the dirty work of course and Cass was the brains behind the scenes." Mary laughed uncomfortably.

John frowned but didn't say anything further.

"I was just telling Cassidy about Sherlock and how he needs a flat mate. I think Cassidy and he will hit it off." Mary smiled oblivious to both Cassidy and John who were looking at her as if she had grown an extra head.

John smiled nervously at Cassidy before looking at his wife.

"Seriously? No offence Cassidy but I'm sure she wouldn't be interested in moving in with Sherlock Holmes." John scoffed thinking the whole idea was ludicrous.

Before Cassidy or Mary could say something, Arthur piped up.

"Sherlock Holmes the detective with the cool hat?" He shouted at the top of his voice.

"Yes Archie. I think your aunt should come and meet me and John at 221B Baker Street at six." Mary said firmly.

"I uh …" Cassidy mumbled unsure about all of this.

"I won't take no for an answer. And you should know how persuasive I am, tell her John?" Mary smiled nudging John in the shoulder.

"Um yes. Do come. You should at least come see the place if you're interested." He coughed rubbing his shoulder where Mary had nudged him.

"Okay." Cassidy said nervously.

John had given her,Arthur's script and she quickly said her goodbyes.

John looked at Mary his eyes wide.

"I hope you know what you're doing?" He sighed.

Mary shrugged her shoulders. She just wanted to help her two friends out. Maybe it won't work but there was always a chance that Cassidy would have the patience to deal with Sherlock. Mary's smile faltered, this was Sherlock she was talking about. Oh gosh what had she done?

Cassidy walked up nervously towards Baker Street. She had gotten out the cab a few blocks away when she was aware that she was going to be early. By the time she had gotten back to her sister , her sister had started with the criticisms and how she was doing Cassidy a big favor by taking her in and allowing her to work in their parents bookstore. Cassidy as usual had switched off, a skill she had acquired growing up; sometimes it was easier to pretend ignorance was bliss.

Cassidy had questioned Arthur about Sherlock Holmes when he insisted she sit with him while he did his homework in his room. Arthur pulled out a file with various clippings of race cars, motorbikes and a newspaper article with the headline reading: Detective with the funny hat back from the grave. Cassidy frowned as she looked at the photo of said man. She had seen the photo before, Sam had mentioned Sherlock Holmes, the consulting detective once or twice to her but Cassidy being Cassidy had been too wrapped up in her own cases to wonder what was going on, on the other side of the world. Cassidy scanned the article reading about his faked suicide and his return. Cassidy glanced at the photo again of said man and noticed in the background was Dr. Watson his sidekick according to the papers. Cassidy looked closer at the picture. The first thought that struck her was how attractive Sherlock was. Cassidy stopped herself at that thought and put the clipping away. She couldn't remember the last time a thought had passed like that through her mind. She wasn't the type for romantic illusions or relationships. She was committed to her work. Always had been and always would be.

But that didn't stop Cassidy from looking him up on the net. She read half a dozen of the cases on John's blog before her sister shrieked at the top of her lungs for her. Cassidy tucked her mobile into her jeans and made her way down to the kitchen. Jane sat at the kitchen counter sipping wine, while a lady dressed in white was preparing plates of food.

"This is Anne. She's our chef. I don't cook." Jane stated dismissively.

Cassidy greeted the older woman before turning to her sister.

"I'm going out tonight. So don't worry about setting out a plate."

"Fine." Jane sniffed tipping the contents of the glass down her throat.

"What did you call me for?" Cassidy asked.

"I could only get you something part-time at the store. So you'll have to find something else to do the rest of the day. I can't have you sitting around doing nothing." Jane sneered reaching for another bottle of wine.

"Afraid I'm going to spill to Richard what you're doing during the day?" Cassidy smirked.

Jane frowned glancing at Anne before glaring at Cassidy.

"Shut up. My personal life is my own. I have friends that I entertain. High end friends with high standings. Forgive me if I don't want my sister trudging about the place." Jane sniffed her nose pointed in the air.

Cassidy sighed when she came to a stop outside 221B Baker Street. She glanced up at the dark brick building. It was situated in a good area of town, close enough for her to walk to her parents store and it looked quaint. Cassidy's eye caught the sudden movement behind a window but as she stared closely, whatever it was no longer was there. Perhaps it was just her imagination. She didn't have to wait long for Mary and John as they arrived. Cassidy noted that Mary didn't have her baby with her.

"Where's your baby?" Cassidy asked as Mary enveloped her into another hug.

"Amelia was a bit crabby so I asked my friend to look after her." Mary smiled.

"Let's get a move on then." John smiled.

Cassidy was about to move, but Mary stopped her.

"Cass he's not the easiest person around. So he might um say things but just know he doesn't even know that he does it." Mary said nervously fully aware what was going to take place upstairs.

"You mean he's going to deduce me and tell me all my inner demons right?" Cassidy asked, fully aware now that she had read John's blog what his tactics were.

Mary and John looked at her puzzled.

"I read your blog. I think it's important to do some background check on potential flat mates." Cassidy shrugged her shoulders trying to explain her actions.

"I did the same." John smiled kindly at Cassidy. He liked her.

John pulled his keys out and unlocked the front door. The trio walked into the small entrance foyer.

"That's Mrs. Hudson's place, she's the land lady. Don't be surprised if she comes and does routine cleaning." John pointed to the glass frame door.

Cassidy nodded and proceeded up the stairs behind John. John knocked on the dark oak door.

"Sherlock are you decent?" John asked clearing his throat. He was well aware that Sherlock had a tendency to walk around in just a sheet on occasion. He might have to have a word with him about that if Cassidy passed the Sherlock Test.

"Of course I am." A voice called out, annoyed.

John gave Cassidy a half hearted smile and opened the door.

The first thing Cassidy noticed was the array of papers that lay scattered on the desk. She noticed the yellow smiley painted face on the right of the wall, with what she could only assume were bullet holes in the wall surrounding and on the face. On the left side of the wall was bookshelves on either side of a fireplace and a small old fashioned TV sat in the corner. Cassidy took in the earthly green of the room and the old nostalgic theme of the place. It reminded her of her grandparents house, she felt at home immediately. Cassidy's eyes fell lastly on the man seated in the grey bound chair that faced the door. His face was obscured by a medical journal but she could see the top of his brown curls peaking out and she noted his pale complexion and his long fingers. Musician fingers, she thought to herself. He was dressed in a grey suit and she could tell by his legs that he was tall and lean but she could see that his torso was broad and she could see the hint of muscle but not much that he looked like a bodybuilder.

"Sherlock this is Cassidy Scott." Mary said breaking the silence.

Sherlock placed the book down. Cassidy felt her stomach clench. He was really attractive more so in person. He didn't have Hollywood superstar looks but there was something to be said about the classic look.

'Snap out of it!' She snapped to herself, aware that his blue grey eyes were scanning her.

She wanted to fidget but she tried in vain not to. He was unnerving her with his intense gaze. She was aware what was going to come next if John's blog was anything to go about.

He finally stopped and stood up but never breaking his gaze from Cassidy's. She was right. He was tall.

"Sherlock Holmes." He said his tone rich and deep.

"Pleasure." Cassidy almost wheezed out.

"Cassidy's an old…" John started but Sherlock lifted his hand to stop his friend.

"An old colleague of Mary's no doubt. Not in the same field as her, more academic so a behaviorist specialist I'm guessing by the way she assessed me when she entered the room. Worked in America but from London originally. Just arrived today by the state of her clothes and her eyes. Suggests she slept but jetlag gets the best of us." Sherlock said simply.

John looked annoyed, Mary amused and Cassidy didn't quite know how to feel.

"You know that's annoying right?" John huffed taking a seat on the brown leather couch.

"Gone are the days when you would say amazing." Sherlock quipped his eyes leaving Cassidy's for a moment to look at John.

John didn't say anything he just gave Sherlock, his don't be a smartass look.

"Cassidy's looking for a place to stay." Mary said breaking the silence that fell in the room.

Sherlock turned his gaze back on Cassidy's. Cassidy felt herself growing small again under that gaze. Why did he make her feel so small? She had dealt with murders, serial killers with deranged thoughts and not once had she even felt inferior to them when they would make remarks. So why was he getting to her?

"I suppose living with a fornicator isn't ideal. What's your view point on Sociopaths?" He asked as he began pacing around the room.

Cassidy frowned.

"What about Sociopaths?" She asked confused.

"You study human behavior you tell me?" He quipped back.

"I think everyone is a sociopath in some aspects of their life. It just depends on what spectrum they fall." Cassidy answered.

Sherlock stopped his pacing and smiled at her.

"Where do I fall on the spectrum?" He asked eyebrow raised.

"I'm guessing on the end." Cassidy said.

Sherlock chuckled softly.

"I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days on end. I don't have a routine sleeping pattern and I don't do grocery shopping. Does that bother you?" Sherlock asked amused.

"I guess not?" Cassidy asked confused.

"Excellent. You can move in tomorrow. I'll ask Mrs. Hudson to clean up John's old quarters." Sherlock moved towards the door past Cassidy and slipped on his coat and pulled his scarf on.

"That's it?" John asked arms crossed as he stared in bewilderment at his friend.

"Yes. I'm off. I have to see Lestrade about a case." Sherlock said simply and exited the door.

Cassidy stood rooted to the spot. What exactly happened?

"Don't worry he always does that." John sighed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

Two weeks later

The two weeks that had passed had been the strangest two weeks of her life. Sherlock had approved of her within two seconds of their initial meeting and within twenty four hours she left Jane, who was only too happy to see the backend of her. She moved in with the detective. In those few days she learned that he truly was an enigma, he left the flat at odd hours, sometimes she wouldn't see him for at least a day, and he would sit stock still mumbling under his breath before suddenly shooting up and nearly giving her a heart attack before bolting for the door. In the early morning hours she would awaken to the sound of the violin or the thumps of his footsteps in the kitchen conducting experiments.

In all the time she had been there he hadn't muttered more than a few words to her. It truly felt like she was living alone with a cat that was on edge all the time. She had gotten to know the landlady Mrs Hudson who assured her that the detectives coming and goings were perfectly normal. Cassidy worked most morning shifts at her parent's bookstore called Pages, she hated being there. Too many memories of her parents walked within the small quaint bookstore and she was only too happy to leave when her shift was done. She was getting paid well and luckily for Cassidy she wasn't the type who wasted her money, so she was able to afford the rent easily without any worries. She would walk around London after her shift, grab a bite to eat and sit on a park bench for at least an hour before she walked back to Baker Street and there she would either sit in her room listening to music or in the lounge and watch whatever was on the telly. Sometimes Sherlock would leave a list of things he required from the shops, with his card and she would oblige and go and get it. But a part of her craved the chase, she missed her job. She missed the depths in which she would have to dive, to discover the inner workings of a madman. Her mind wasn't used to being unused.

So after her shift one afternoon, Cassidy grabbed a book with case study book on unsolved murders and figured she would have a little fun when she got home. When she wasn't working, she used to read cold case files and try see if she could break down elements of the scene. It kept her stimulated and going. But when Cassidy arrived at 221B Baker Street she was greeted to the sight of a corpse hanging from the ceiling in the lounge area. Sherlock sat beneath the corpse, unaffected by its presence, reading. He glanced up when she placed the grocery bags on the kitchen table.

"Did you get the whip cream?" He called out to her.

Cassidy frowned and dug into a bag and pulled out the can. Sherlock nodded in approval and made his way besides her. Cassidy shrinked back a bit. It was the first time he had been within close proximity of her.

"You having dessert?" Cassidy asked, cringing when her voice squeaked at the end.

Sherlock frowned at her and took the can.

"Digesting sweet things is boring. Digestion is boring. No this is for a case." He said juggling the tin back and forth between his hands.

Cassidy shrugged her shoulders and began packing away the rest of the groceries. When she was finished she was surprised to find that he had yet to move and instead was paging through the book she had brought back from the store. Aware that she was staring at him he glanced up at her.

"Some light reading?" He asked an expression of amusement on his face.

"I like reading." She answered stiffly.

Sherlock stopped paging and made his way over towards the corpse.

"Tell me what you see?" He suddenly asked.

Cassidy frowned at his unexpected question.

"A corpse hanging from a ceiling." She said confused.

This was the most he had spoken to her in two weeks. She wasn't sure why he was talking to her now.

Sherlock sighed annoyed.

"No tell me what you see besides the obvious."

Cassidy stood still. Was this some sort of trick? Why was he asking for her input on a case?

"Why?" She asked.

"Humour me." He said as he resumed his seat, tossing the whip cream between his hands again. His steely blue eyes focused on her green ones.

Cassidy moved closer to the body and inspected.

"Well?" Sherlock asked, studying the woman before him.

"Male in his mid forties, bruising on his upper left arm, suggests he's right handed and diabetic. Those marks are insulin injections. He's lost a lot of weight and very recently by the stretch marks and the loose skin." Cassidy answered.

Sherlock nodded.

"So why would a man willing consume three cans of whip cream and other sugary confections and then hang himself?" Sherlock asked.

"Well he didn't commit suicide." Cassidy answered simply.

Sherlock moved in a flash and stood before her.

"Why isn't it a suicide?" He whispered.

Cassidy felt her skin flush. He was breathing down at her, and she could smell his scent and feel his breaths.

"The nail scratches on his neck and the bruising on his upper torso." She said softly.

"Interesting but there something else isn't there?" Sherlock questioned.

Cassidy tore her gaze away from his looked back at the corpse.

"I don't see anything else." She frowned turning her eyes back on his.

Sherlock smirked before taking a step back.

"You see but do not observe." He said simply.

He slapped the corpse and watched as it swayed side to side before turning back to Cassidy.

"He is a diabetic but he wasn't overly obese. Look at his hands. They're perfectly manicured, his eyebrows perfectly shaped and his face smooth without a wrinkle but it's his body that gives away his age. This man took great care in his appearance and wouldn't commit suicide by making a pig of himself. So his attacker tries to incapacitate him by shoving whip cream down his throat, but Mr Walters obviously fought back, note the minuscule bruising beneath his hands , suggest he wasn't much of a fighter. So the attacker decides to strangle him rather than drown him in whip cream. He then positions the body to make it look like a suicide." Sherlock deduced rapidly.

"Then why did you bring the body here and ask for the whip cream?" Cassidy questioned.

"Curiosity got the better of me." Sherlock smirked before moving towards his chair.

He climbed up and pulled out a pocket knife from his jacket. He cut the rope that was attached to the ceiling. The corpse fell down on to floor with a huge thud. Sherlock then pulled out his mobile.

"Ah Molly please send someone to collect Mr Walters, I'm sure the students of Bart's will have good use of him." He hung up and jumped on to the floor.

"He donated his body for medical reasons. Hence the reason I was allowed to bring him here." Sherlock smiled cheerfully walking past the corpse towards the door.

"So you did all of this because you were curious?" Cassidy asked confused.

"Why not. I got my answer." He chuckled pulling on his coat.

"What answer?" Cassidy frowned following him as he made his way out their flat and down the stairs to the entrance hall.

"You." He smirked turning towards her before he exited the building.

What the hell did he mean by that? Cassidy turned round and made her way back into the lounge her eyes falling on the corpse that lay on the floor. What could a corpse have anything to do with her?

Days passed on as usual after the incident in the living room. In fact Cassidy hadn't seen Sherlock in those passing days. It was a typical Saturday afternoon; the summer rain was pelting down against the windows of the book shop. She didn't mind the rain it probably was the only thing she missed of London. Her father used to tell her that God was in the rain and when it rained he washed away all that was bad from our lives.

Cassidy's chest tightened. She always pushed her parents out of her mind when she was in New York but it was harder to do so now when she was in their shop. Pages wasn't like most of the up and coming book stores that had edgy vibes to them, it was simple, homely almost with puffy couches and shelves stacked to the roof filled with books.

"Hey Cass, you think you can help me put some of these books on the shelves." Maddy asked carrying a large box towards Cassidy who was sitting at the register taking in stock.

Cassidy smirked at the younger girl, Madeline or Maddy as she liked to be called looked out of place in the small quaint bookstore, with her jet black hair, dark gothic makeup and various piercings on her face. Maddy appeared to look hardcore but deep down she was fluffy teddy bear, a fluffy teddy bear who loved rock and roll. Cassidy liked her and she was happy that in the three weeks she had been there, her and Maddy had gotten or relatively well.

"Scared of the ladder?" Cassidy chuckled.

Maddy heaved the box on to the counter and gave Cassidy a death stares.

"No ... I just don't feel like falling on my ass in front of those cute guys." Maddy smiled looking over her shoulder towards said guys.

"But it's okay for me to fall on my ass?"

"Yeah damn straight. I swoop in and save you and I look like a million bucks." Maddy smiled.

Cassidy just shook her head and proceeded to the back of the store. She grabbed the ladder and began stocking the books.

"What is this nonsense?"

Cassidy almost lost her grip on the ladder when his voice startled her. She glanced down to her left and saw Sherlock, eyebrows raised, staring at the cover of a very racy book.

"Sherlock! What the hell are you doing here?" Cassidy whispered angrily towards him.

He ignored her question and reached for a book and frowned.

"Erotic stories to make one squirm?" He mused out loud.

Cassidy climbed down the steps of the ladder; she pulled the book out of his hand and placed it back on the shelf.

"What are you doing here?" She asked again, crossing her arms, very much aware that she looked like a mother scalding her child.

"Curiosity." He stated his pale blue eyes on hers.

Cassidy noted that his hair was damp. He looked like he had stepped out of the shower.

'Stop that thought' Cassidy thought to herself.

"It's a bookstore. Nothing to be curious of." She muttered.

"I need you. What time do you finish?" He said simply.

"What do you need me for?"

"Something it's urgent. What time?" He nagged.

"In an hour's time." Cassidy sighed.

"Excellent, meet me at this address."

Sherlock held out a piece of paper for her to take.

"Why should I come?" She asked taking the paper from his, carefully as not to touch his skin.

"Because you miss it."

Cassidy was about to ask what but he pivoted and made his way out the store. Maddy who had been eaves dropping around the corner had a huge smile plastered on her face.

"Who's that tall drink of water?" She smirked tapping Cassidy on her shoulder.

"An enigma." Cassidy answered after a few moments.

"Lucky bitch." Maddy smirked before going back to flirt with a guy who was at the register.

Cassidy glanced down at the piece of paper. In swift elegant style the words: 98 Horace Road was written.

A part of her wanted to toss it in the bin but the part she kept dormant for the last few weeks niggled at her. She wanted to go and she was going to go.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four

The rain eased down when it came for Cassidy to leave the shop. The address Sherlock gave her tucked in her hand; she hailed a cab and made her way towards the other side of town.

The cab pulled to a stop beside a police car. Cassidy glanced out the cab window. Police were scattered outside an abandoned old building, a yellow tape sectioned off a small area of the road blocking the cabs path.

This must be the place she thought. She handed the cabbie driver his money and climbed out. Unsteadily she walked towards the yellow tape where a woman was standing. The woman in question glanced up and frowned when she saw Cassidy.

"Oi don't you see the tape?" The woman said her voice laced with annoyance as she rolled her brown eyes at Cassidy.

"I'm supposed to be meeting Sherlock Holmes here?" Cassidy asked.

The woman frowned and eyed Cassidy out before speaking:

"Oh God not another one? He needs to learn that he does not run the show he's been bringing all sorts along with him lately." The woman scowled

What could she possibly mean by another one?

Cassidy watched as the woman reached for her cell and dialled.

"Freaks got another one here. Okay fine." She put down her cell and gave Cassidy a glare before lifting up the yellow tape.

"Go ahead third floor and make sure not to touch anything"

Cassidy ducked under the tape and made her way into the abandoned building. It smelt of mould and by the looks of it was beginning to collapse on itself. The steps she began to climb creaked beneath her feet as she squeezed past forensic team and policeman.

The minute she stepped onto the final landing, a whiff of vanilla crept up on her and engulfed her. She coughed trying to get rid of the uncomfortable itch in her throat from the scent. With watered eyes she took in the room and felt her stomach drop and the  
hairs on her arm and neck prickle. The small room was shrouded in candle light, various size white candles burning around a male body dressed in a white robe lying on a white cotton blanket and almost on top of the body; Sherlock hovered with a magnifying glass, muttering under his breath as a salt and pepper haired man stood opposite him.

Sherlock glanced up and saw the young brunette looking at him with wide jade eyes. He moved away from the body and placed his small magnifying glass in his coat. Ignoring Lestrade he walked over to her.

"You came." He said.

A while passed before Cassidy answered.

"You knew I would." She shrugged her shoulders trying to be indifferent.

But who was she trying to kid? This excited her. She knew it was morally wrong to think that, there was a person that had lost his life but she needed it. Craved the chase, climbing into another's shoes and the victory that came with figuring it all out and putting someone away for life. She hadn't lied to Sherlock, everyone had sociopath tendencies and she wasn't above the concept to think that she was any different.

Sherlock nodded his head and walked back towards the body. She followed. The salt and pepper haired man greeted her with a simple nod of his head. Cassidy stepped cautiously around the scene her mind framing things rapidly in her head that she was battling to decipher what was before her eyes. She closed her eyes shut and breathed in deep. It was a consequence of her brain not being used to working. It happened when she was forced to take leave and when she returned it was like her brain was almost too eager to work.

Her eyes opened and came into focus. Slowly she started pulling apart what she could see. A male body, late 20 ' early 30's. Blonde hair, athletic build but not a body builder. Dressed in an off white robe, hands resting on his pelvic area, entwined. A white blanket underneath him and placed above his head a picture of the Virgin Mary. Curious.

"What do you see?" Sherlock asked breaking the silence.

"Huh?" Lestrade answered.

"Not you." Sherlock rolled his eyes, his amber eyes turning blue as he looked at Cassidy.

Cassidy sucked in a breath. His eyes were like the crab nebula, changing colours. Perhaps he suffered from a hetrochromia mutation where the eyes changed color.

"Death by asphyxiation. Body placed strategically, almost methodically as if they were displaying it. The killer washed and clothed him in this attire. The robe isn't a bathroom robe it reminds me of the robes kids where at their christenings. It's almost like they're trying to rebirth them , could explain the Virgin Mary?" Cassidy mused out loud.

Her mouth snapped shut when she realized she had spoken out a loud. She glanced between Sherlock and the other man.

"Bloody hell. She's like you aint she?" The other man broke the silence.

"There is no one like me , Lestrade. Miss Scott is a creature all her own." Sherlock cleared his throat.

" You're right , only half right though. You missed some obvious points though?" Sherlock sighed.

" Enlighten us then?" Lestrade asked.

Cassidy watched as his blue eyes widened , he took a step back and breathed in.

" Working man most likely going by the detail to personal care. Means he took great pride in his appearance and body and entertained woman by the hour. There are small fibres in his mouth that match the one's of the blanket. So the murder weapon is the blanket. No bruising anywhere in sight so whoever did this is very talented at leaving a corpse without a bruise. Professional who likes to display his work. Most likely targeting sinners in his eyes. Over religious, Catholic most probably but doesn't conform so extremist Catholic with his own ideas."

Sherlock paused before continuing, no doubt trying to suck in much air as possible to get out what he wanted to say.

"Like Miss Scott said, he's thought this out very carefully. Planned every detail like a reel in his head. He's going to kill again now that he has seen that he can get his work out there for the world to see. There will be another victim in a week."

Sherlock placed his magnifying glass back into its special case. He turned to Cassidy.

"Fancy something to eat?" He asked out of the blue.

"What?" Cassidy and Lestrade both said in unison.

"I haven't eaten for days." Sherlock ignored them and made his way past Cassidy. He stopped at the foot of the stairs and pivoted.

"You coming?" He asked pointedly at Cassidy.

Cassidy nodded and followed him as they made their descend down the steps. She didn't quite know what happened back there?

"Shouldn't we be looking for evidence?" Cassidy asked plucking up the courage to speak as they exited the building.

"You saw the body , the scene , there is no evidence other than what we can see. Whoever this is clever and wouldn't be stupid enough to leave clues." Sherlock said glancing down at his mobile screen his eyes furrowed at the brow, no doubt something was making him think.

"So you've got nothing , basically?" Cassidy scoffed.

She had to wonder if John Watson romanticized Sherlock a bit too much in his blogs. Turning him into something he wasn't. Perhaps he was ordinary. But as she stared at the man in question, she realized he was nothing but extraordinary.

"I've got ample enough evidence." He said suddenly slipping his mobile into his coat, as he hailed a nearby cab.

"You do?" Cassidy asked.

Sherlock glanced at her.

"I know enough of things, things that you probably wouldn't want anyone to know. I'm no amateur. Try remembering that." He said softly as he opened the cab door and gestured for her to slide in first.

Cassidy couldn't help feel that he was hinting at her. Her past. But how could he possibly know anything? Sam, her sister and a few retired cops were the only people that knew what happened to the poor Scott girls and their parents. Everything had been hushed, hushed. The murder of her parents had been so horrific and scarring that it wasn't made public record.

"Stop thinking about it." Sherlock suddenly spoke, breaking the silence in the cab.

Cassidy glanced outside the window and realized that the cab had already started its journey. She hadn't even heard where they were going to. Cassidy peaked sideways at Sherlock and saw that his once blue eyes were now a steely grey and those steel eyes were focused on hers. She looked away and pulled nervously at the jacket sleeve of her left arm.

Sherlock watched as the woman beside him pulled at her left jacket sleeve. To an outsider or an average mind they would have thought she was displaying a nervous trait under distress. A tell if you like. But he knew better, Miss Cassidy Scott was hiding more than just her feelings. She was trying to hide her past.


End file.
